


No One Ever Saved the World By Being Nice

by anantipodean



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anantipodean/pseuds/anantipodean
Summary: How do you prove your father isn't a super-villain? Enrol in superhero school, obviously.But becoming a hero requires more than making the world's best vegan brownies. Phoebe can't control her light-speed powers, her classmates hate her, and she's developing a major crush on the son of her arch-enemy. Nothing would make Atlas happier than putting Phoebe's entire family behind bars permanently. If she can't out superhero the world's greatest superhero, her Dad is non-vegan toast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP that I plan to eventually publish. That said, I'm having trouble getting started with this first draft and I hope that by sharing it here and over on Wattpad I will be more motivated to work on it. I'd love any thoughts and feedback on this project! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Making the best vegan brownies in the world is a huge responsibility. Huge. If my recipe got into the wrong hands, it would be catastrophe. Disaster. Riots. Looting. A cover up attempt by big-dairy. Maybe even war. It was a lot for one girl to carry.  


I, Phoebe Intelligence Savea, had it covered.  


The Nautillus was hundreds of fathoms deep in international waters (exact location unknown), but I’d locked everyone out of the galley before I started baking. As the oven timer went, the person banging on the metal door redoubled their efforts. I ignored them, lifting the tray from the oven and breathing in the thick, gooey chocolate heaven. Sometimes perfection is its own reward.  


I placed the tray on the bench, and nudged the top of the brownies with a finger tip. It gave the exact right amount of give. I reached for the fork on the galley bench to complete my brownie test and encountered a human body.  


I screamed.  


“What the hell? Feebs, it’s only me!” Oleander jumped back, banging his elbow on the opposite counter. He doubled up, hissing.  


I breathed out. Oleander was my twin and the one person I could trust not to steal my brownie recipe. Plus even when not doubled up in agony, Oleander couldn’t intimidate a paper bag. He’s an awkward collection of elbows and knees, and deliberately combs his hair out to add to his claim of height superiority. Pathetic really.  


“You know better than to disturb the master baker at work.” I stuck a fork into the tray. Once again I’d achieved perfection in a 4x6 pan.  


“Rooster says can you kindly get out so he can get a move on with breakfast. The second shift—”  


I already knew about the second shift. “Did you tell him what day it was?” I teased a knife around the edge of the tray. Ideally, the brownies should rest for a further five minutes, but the thumps on the door were increasingly agitated.  


“Yeah. He said, ‘oh god, not this again.’”  


“It’s entirely due to dad Rooster’s even here. He should be making a cake, not begruding dad a birthday.” The brownies slid out of the pan. I divided them into neat squares. A crumb stuck to the knife. I scooped it into my mouth. Sheer bliss. I am a genius.  


“Feebs, please?”  


“You can’t rush perfection.” I transferred my perfect brownies onto a plate.  


Oleander hovered. “Those bits—”  


“All yours.” Oleander preferred the crunchy edges.  


Cradling my plate of brownies, I wound back the lock on the door.  


Rooster towered over me. He filled almost the entire corridor, big and meaty, with arms like tree trunks. “About bloody time.” His glare was at least seven on the intimidation scale.  


He’s always been jealous of my mad baking skills. “Happy dad’s birthday to you too.” I gave him my best smile. “Give the second shift my love.”  


He grunted, shoving past me into the galley. I held the brownies over my head to protect them and started down the corridor.  


As the angry clatter of Rooster thumping pans around died away, other sounds took their place. Faint echoes of footsteps on metal, the clank of machinery, and the distant hum of the cooling fans. The corridor was dark, evidently another electrical fault. Trip and risk my brownies? I concentrated on my skin, feeling the warm prickle as my skin glowed. I restrained myself to about 60 watts. I didn’t want to blind anyone.  


As I reached the laboratory, Oleander melted out of the shadows. It’s an alarming sight if you’re not used to it. The shadows rippled, and then his elbow appeared out of it. Terrifying. Fortunately, it was followed by the rest of him, holding an oddly shaped mound of plastic to his chest. “I’m not singing.”  


“You have to sing.”  


“Says who? He doesn’t care.”  


“Of course he does. Even geniuses want to be wished happy birthday.”  


“What if he’s working? We’ll break his concentration. ”  


I hesitated. “We’ll see what he’s doing. If he looks like he’s about to change world history, we’ll just give him the presents. Speaking of, is that it?” I nodded at the thing he held.  


“Yeah.” Oleander swallowed, wiping one hand on his T-shirt. Had it occurred to him he was presenting the greatest scientific mind of our times with something that looked like plastic snot? No doubt he regretted refusing to let me help him with his present.  


“It’s not too late to go halvsies in my brownies.”  


“What? No. It’s cool.” Oleander took a deep breath and placed his palm flat against the security reader.  


Only ten people in the world have the clearance to enter the Nautillus’ laboratory, and me and Oleander are among them. Every time the doors opened, revealing the muted light of the laboratory, the crisp white worktables a sharp contrast to the dull metal of the rest of the sub, I got a ripple of excitement.  


Dad stood at the glass windows, looking down at the processing center. A group of people in white coats stood with him. Their crisp clothes and impractical shoes marked them as visitors from the surface. “The Nautillus relies on the ocean for the majority of our resources. Currently, we’ve turned our attention to the Great Pacific Plastic Patch.”  


Nalini, his second in command, stood next to him clutching a clipboard. “Nemo’s produced an ingenious means of siving even the smallest plastic particles from the water, modelled on a whale’s jaw. As we travels through the trash vortex, it gathers plastic and expels sea water. The larger pieces are processed by our team of volunteers, sorted to be reprocessed or reused.”  


The visitors murmurred, one woman stepping closer to the window. “Remarkable.”  


Dad smiled. “Removing the plastic from the ocean also prevents the leaching of poisons into the water. Once we’ve collected the pastics, we treat them. In the process, the plastics become more easily biodegradable.”  


“And what happens to the poisons once you’ve removed them from the plastics?” One man hung back, arms folded across his chest.  


Dad turned to look at him. “As you approached the Nautillus you might have glimpsed some large cannisters attached to the outside of the submarine. We store the gas there. Naturally, we cannot risk a leak compromising the safety of the Nautillus’ crew—”  


“You’re hiding behind a chemical weapon!” The man sneered. “All of this enviromental concern is simply a smokescreen for your real interest—”  


“Don’t speak to my dad that way!”  


The group jumped, turning to stare at myself and Oleander.  


Oleander stepped behind me. “Maybe this is a bad time—”  


“Hold my brownies.” I shoved them into his hands and marched up to the man in the coat. “How many self-sustaining submarines have you built, huh? What’s your solution for cleaning up the ocean?” I stabbed my finger in his chest.  


The man gulped. “I—”  


“Don’t have one? That’s what I thought.” I glared at him.  


A hand settled on my shoulder. “I apologise for my daughter, Dr. Scott. Phoebe is a passionate supporter of my work.”  


I leaned back against Dad, smirking at the murmurs of surprise. Having trouble reconciling the cold scientific genius the world loved to hate with a family man? “What else is he supposed to do with the poisonous byproducts? Dump it in the ocean? At least when it’s stored it’s out of the water—and Dad’s never had a spill. Unlike the oil industry, the nuclear industry—”  


Dad squeezed my shoulder. “You have only my word that I do not intend to misuse the chemical byproduct of our plastic harvesting. I’m aware that is not enough for some of you. However, since the world became aware of this consequence of my work, serious action has been taken in reducing the manufacture of plastic. If this alleged chemical weapon makes the world think twice about polluting, it cannot entirely be a bad thing.” He nodded to Nalini. “Professor Kapoor will continue the tour. I’m going to spend some time with my children.”  


The group of scientists filed after Nalini, Dr. Scott looked back.  


I stuck my tongue out at him. “Why do you bother inviting these people? All they do is criticize.”  


“The world must know that I have nothing to hide.” Dad’s hand settled on my head, stroking my curls.  


“That’s the problem with living in a submarine in International Waters.” Oleander had joined us. “People assume you’re up to no good.”  


I elbowed him. It wasn’t Dad’s fault!  


Dad considered us. “As pleasant as your visits always are, is any specific occasion for this call?”  


I took the brownies from Oleander and nodded. “Happy Birthday!” we said in unison.  


Dad blinked. “Is it…? I’d entirely forgotten.”  


I held out the brownies. “I made these fresh this morning. They’re still oven warm!”  


Dad took one, pulling up a chair. “Delightful. You can barely taste the seaweed.”  


I glowed. Figuratively, this time.  


Dad spotted the plastic monstrosity Oleander was fiddling with. “What’s this?”  


“Um.” Oleader looked down at it. “Well, I… It’s hard to explain. I’ll just show you.” He held it up. “Feebs, a light?”  


I concentrated on my palm, emitting a light, gentle at first, but building stronger. “Like this?”  


“Exactly.” Oleader stepped back.  


A shadow covered the far wall, outlining a very familiar form. It was a perfect reproduction of the Nautillus, her massive outer propellor, the cannisters of chemical byproduct, and three entirely unproportional portholes containing three silhouettes. A taller man, holding a testube. A skinny form that had to be Oleander, and a third, shorter form, wearing a chef’s hat. Dad, me and Oleander.  


A few long moments later Dad spoke. “Well.” He placed his hand on Oleander’s shoulder. “You are full of surprises. Did you know your sculpture would cast the right shadow?”  


Oleander rubbed his arm, looking at his feet. “I felt like I was building the shadow and the sculpture followed, not the other way round.”  


I looked at the lumpy ’sculpture.’ That explained everything.  


“The potential of you two never ceases to amaze me.” Dad reached out his hand to my shoulder, and the three of us stood a moment, united. “My most successful experiments.”

*****

Travelling by shadow might be almost instantaneous, but those few seconds in what Oleander calls ‘between’ are seriously unnerving. It’s pitch black, and empty. There’s nothing beneath your feet, nothing to hold on to, nothing besides Oleander’s fingers around my wrist. The cold goes straight to your bones. When we stepped out of the shadow of a coconut palm into the bright sun on the island shore, my skin was a mass of goose-pimples.  


I dropped Oleander’s hand to rub my arms. “You could have told me what you were giving Dad.”  


Oleander shaded his eyes as he looked around. One of the Nautillus’ above-water drones had gone missing and as a special treat, we were looking for it at the drone’s last known location, an uninhabited island in the Almiranta chain. “I didn’t know it would work.”  


“More of a reason to tell me! I could have helped.”  


Oleander snorted.  


I narrowed my eyes. “What was that?”  


He shrugged. “Well, you’ve never learned how to control your light-speed, have you?”  


“That’s not true! I can use it—I just can’t…”  


“Control it?”  


I thumped his arm. “Keep up with it! You try moving faster than the human mind can comprehend, see how easy it is.” I relishing the heat of the sun on my neck and shoulders as I stepped on the beach. Too bad we were on a mission—walking barefoot on the hot sand was exactly what I needed to chase away the last of the chill shadows. “Besides, when will I ever need to travel at lightspeed?” Above the shoreline, scraggling bush gave way to a thicker forest. I started down the beach. “Let’s look this way.”  


Oleander trailed after me. “Don’t you think it’s weird we live in a submarine, and the only time we’re allowed out, it’s to visit uninhabited islands like this one?”  


“What are you talking about? We go places all the time.”  


“Using fake names. And not for long. I’m just saying…well, it’s weird, isn’t it?”  


“Not when your dad’s the world’s greatest scientist. Genius is often misunderstood. Look at Lorde.”  


Oleander shook his head. “No, I mean…If Dad’s such a great scientist, how come he’s exiled to international waters?”  


“People fear the unknown. Well known fact.”  


“So then why do we have superpowers?”  


“Because Dad’s a genius and gave us them.”  


“Yeah, but why? What’s the point of giving someone powers if they’re going to live on a submarine forever?”  


I studied Oleander. His shoulders were hunched, and he kicked a rock out of his way, hands in his pocket. “What’s got into you?”  


“I got an e-mail from Clay last night.”  


“I should have known.” Clay was our older brother. He’d tried to e-mail me too, but I wasn’t having any of it. “What’s he done now?”  


“He hasn’t done anything. He’s out of jail now and everything.”  


“He’s trouble, pure and simple. Look at the influence he’s had on you! You never used to ask questions like this.”  


Oleander’s shoulders sagged. He stopped walking. “Yeah, but…I thought them.”  


I stared at him, a queasy feeling in my stomach. “You don’t—you don’t want to leave, right?”  


“No!” Oleander blanched. “Never!”  


“But…?”  


Oleander ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess… Sometimes I wonder if Dad’s told us everything.”  


I stared back at him, as shaky as the sand beneath my feet. Oleander and I never spent more than a couple of minutes apart and I’d had no idea that he’d been brooding on this. I felt like I was standing on a precipice.  


“Feebs? You’re not mad, right? You’re not going to tell…?”  


“No! No.” I took a deep breath. Telling would get us both in trouble. “Thinking’s all right—Dad’s a big fan of thinking! And even if there is stuff he hasn’t told us, there’s reasons for that. I mean, he’s our only parent. All parents want the best for their kids.” At least according to what I’d observed of family dynamics on Netflix.  


Oleander chewed his lip. “You think that’s it?”  


I nodded. “Totally. You heard what he said this morning—we’re his best experiment.”  


“Um—”  


“A dad joke. Meaning he thinks of us as his kids—not as a scientist.”  


“I guess—”  


“Look. Remember the Nautillus code?”  


Oleander tilted his head, shading his eyes. “Working collectively for the good of all?”  


“Yeah.” I put my hand on his arm. “Whatever dad’s plans are, they’re for the good of everyone. So we don’t need to worry about them. All we have to do is follow the rules, and everything will work out. ”  


“You’re sure?”  


I nodded. “Trust your big sister. I got this figured out.”  


Oleander sighed. “Short sister is more like it—”  


“Hey!” I swatted at him, but he dodged. I jogged after him. “What’s a few measley centimeters? I was in the world an entire hour and sixteen minutes ahead of you—”  


Oleander laughed, half-turning. Then he saw that I was only a hand’s width behind him, and he sprinted, sand spraying in his wake.  


“Yeah, you better run!” I gritted my teeth, dashing after him.  


Oleander stopped.  


I tried to slow myself, digging my feet into the sand, but it was too late. I slammed into his back. “What the—”  


“Listen.” Oleander grabbed my hand, pulling me back into the shadow of the trees.  


What was he talking about? I heard the waves lapping at the shore, my own ragged breathing, and a whine, gradually growning louder. A mosquito? No, louder than that, building in ferocity as it grew closer. I stepped out of the trees.  


“Phoebe! What are you doing?”  


“Figuring out what’s going on.” I don’t need to shade my eyes when I look at the sky. The sun has never bothered me. I could see clearly what Oleander had only glimpsed—a metallic object flashing through the sky. “It’s some kind of drone, heading for the island.” It shifted course, lining up directly at me. “Shit. Oleander, it’s coming right at us!”  


“That’s why I was hiding! Seriously, you don’t have to—”  


I pushed him further into the trees. “Move.” There were more shadows in the bush, he could escape at leisure.  


I charged after him. With any luck, the thick trees would slow the drone and we could get a better look at it—  
The whine died away. Clearly the forest was too much of a challenge for the machine. I thought I heard it whirring over head. I squeezed Oleander’s hand and we stilled, waiting, our ears straining.  


“What’s it doing?”  


“Shush.” Oleander raised his head. “Hear that?”  


It was a low noise, like a hum. Sort of like the noise the Nautillus’ ventilation fans made when we were underway. Building louder and louder—  


Light filled my entire vision, followed by a blast of intense heat. Oleander’s shoulder caught me on the cheek as he stumbled backwards. I fell with him, my eyes dazzled, the outline of the trees in front of us seered into my vision. I grunted as I hit the ground and heard Oleander swear. And then, nothing but a sour, burnt smell.  


“What happened?” I wriggled upright. A vine fell to the ground in front of us, terminating in a burnt end. Everything else had just gone. There was a perfect circle of ash where the forest had been—ending at Oleander’s army boots.  
The drone hovered overhead. It stayed locked in place, but its camera moved, fixing on Oleander and myself like a mechanical eye. It whirred, beeping to itself. Then we heard it—the low, mechanical hum.  


“Oh god. You think it’s recharging?” Oleander scrabbled to his feet.  


I glared at the drone. “Two can play at that game! Let’s see how you like being zapped!”  


“Phobe, please! Let’s just go—” Oleander made a grab for me.  


I side-stepped his hand, not taking my eyes off the drone. It clicked as I stepped closer to it, camera whirring as it slid over me. The hum had stopped. Recalculating?  


Too late. Heat built behind my eyes. Maybe I couldn’t control my light speed, but I could summon light in its purest form, channel it into a tight, cutting point, and slice through matter like a laser. I’d never tried it on metal, but how hard could it be? The shock of our near escape and the destruction of the forest thudded in my head with my pulse. I wanted to strike out—  


A green and yellow blur shot through the air, barrelling straight into the drone. It crashed into the ground, ash rising up around it like a cloud.  


I choked, shutting my eyes as I fought to breathe. A hand snaked around my waist, hauling me backwards. I didn’t resist. Oleander had the right idea.  


A male voice grunted, followed by a metallic screech. There was a frantic beeping, followed by a hiss. And then—nothing.  


Oleander looked at me. “Can we please go now?”  


“When things are just getting interesting?”  


A guy stepped out of the dust. His grin was cocky despite the ash coating his hair and clothes. He was about a hand taller than Oleander, with bright, engaging yes and a smile that needed no introduction. “No need to thank me—just a regular day for a superhero.”  


I knew who he was, but my eyes still went straight to the logo on his bodysuit. “Oh my god. You’re Van.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Pacific Ocean is 161.8 million kilomters squared. The chances that Van would chose to fly over the part of it we were in just as we needed help were incribly slim. There was no way it was a coincidence, but at that moment it felt like destiny. 

“Van. Son of the world’s greatest superhero!” I couldn’t believe my luck. “Van, the world’s strongest teenager—the youngest person to ever break the sound barrier!”

Oleander shot me a withering look. “I think he knows who he is.”

I would have loved to have stomped on his foot, but Van was looking at us. “Are either of you hurt? I know basic first aid—” He doubled up, coughing.

“Come out of the ash.” I took his arm. “Let me get you something to drink.”

Van dropped down onto the sand with relief. He emptied my drink bottle on the spot, taking huge gulps of water. I watched a drip of water run down his lip with a jolt of elation. Drinking from my drink bottle! That was an indirect kiss—from a superhero!

His hair was a light blond, picking up the sunlight’s warm glow. His skin was lightly freckled—something that didn’t show up in his publicity shots, and his eyelashes were just as fine as his hair. In a word: gorgeous.

Oleander stuck his elbow into my side. “You’re drooling.” 

I shoved him aside. “Get lost.” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to remember what I’d seen in the quick glance I’d given my reflection that morning. Next to Van’s tailored bodysuit, my usual t-shirt and shorts paired with a camouflage jacket and army boots felt downright scruffy.

“Thanks.” Van held out my drink bottle. “I really needed that.”

“You’re welcome. I mean, you did save us from that machine and all.”

“Yeah.” Van got to his feet, dusting himself off. “But that’s what superheroes do. Can I see you home?”

I was checking there was nothing in my teeth, so Oleander beat me to the response. “Thanks but we’re fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean—it’s dangerous out there. And—” Van looked around, as if noticing our surroundings for the first time. “I fly over this island every day. I’m pretty sure it’s uninhabited. And I didn’t see a boat—”

“When you put it like that, we’d love a lift,” I said. 

Oleander took my arm. “One moment.” He hauled me down the beach.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Van’s going to think we don’t trust him!”

“What are you doing?” Oleander let go of me, running his hands through his hair. “Think about this!”

“I am thinking!” It was going to be great. I craned my neck to see what Van was doing. Van on the Nautillus! I’d whip up a batch of brownies as a thank you. He’d be so impressed, he’d be asking Dad for permission to date me before we’d finished the guided tour.

Oleander turned my head back to him. “Van’s dad is Atlas. You know? The world’s greatest hero?”

“I know.” Would I be Mrs Van? Was Atlas his surname? How did this even work?”

“As in the guy responsible for dad’s exile?” Oleander rubbed his arm. “This is a bad idea on every level!”

“Van’s not our arch-enemy. He’s being nice!” Really nice.

“Only because he has no idea who we are!”

“Everything okay over there?” Van called.

“Just fine!” I waved, talking to Oleander out of the corner of my mouth. “He saved our lives—he’s a superhero! He has to help people—and maybe once he meets dad and realises he’s a great guy, he can tell his dad and things will be different.”

Oleander shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“You make everything too complicated. Sometimes you just have to trust people.” I nudged. “Let’s go talk to Van.”

Van straightened as we approached. While we’d been talking, he’d splashed some seawater onto his face, wiping off the worst of the ash. His skin gleamed, and I was momentarily dazzled by the blueness of his eyes. “You come to a decision?”

Oleander folded his arms across his chest. “I want no part of this.”

I fought a sudden urge to giggle. “My brother’s worried our um. Living arrangements might be a challenge for you.”

Van’s eyes rested on Oleander. He stood taller. “Yeah? Being the son of the greatest superhero in the world comes with some major perks. I come with flight and super-strength. Best of all, I deliver in thirty-minutes or your money back.”

And a sense of humour too. I hummed. “How are you at holding your breath?”

“My breath?” Van cocked his head at me.

I twisted a curl around my finger. “Home is a submarine.”

“And not just any submarine,” Oleander cut in. “The Nautillus could be fathoms deep. You’ve got to be able to withstand immense pressure.”

“Wait—the Nautillus?” Van took a step back. “Isn’t that—Nemo’s submarine?”

“Our father.” I smiled. “You’ve heard of him then.”

He stared at me, his beautiful mouth moving as he struggled to speak. “Your—father.”

We all heard it at the same time—a mechanical whine.

“Shit. More machines?” Van half rose from the shore, shifting into the air effortlessly—as if he simply stepped up on thin air. 

My skin crawled as the mechanical sound reached inexorable levels of wrong. I saw the shadows on the sand an instant later. Two more machines! I spun around, putting myself in front of Oleander. 

The machines hovered, propellors whining, cameras darting from side to side. Then, in unison, they acted. Sleek metal sides unfolded swiss army knife-style, the first revealing two chainsaw like blades on the end of metal arms. The second revealed four short arms ending in syringes.

“Oh god.” Van sucked in a shallow breath. “I really hate needles.”

His skin was pale, his lips drained of colour. A needle phobia—how human and relatable! We were totally meant for each other—but if I wanted my first date, I had to do something about those machines.

“Feebs, please no.” Sand crunched as Oleander stepped back.

“We have this.” I summoned the heat behind my eyes. “You protect my future husband. I’ll disarm these…whatever they are.”

Van spluttered. “Um—”

“It’s not worth it.” I heard the soft pop that indicated Oleander had disappeared into the shadows. When he next spoke, his voice was some distance away, down the beach. “You can’t argue with the insane.”

I resisted the urge to glare at him. The two machines whirred and buzzed, clicking as they realised their targets had vanished. The machine with syringe arms rose up in the air, beeping as it sighted Van. It started to move toward him.

“Oh no you don’t!” Quick as thought, the light leaped from my eyes. My lasers sliced through the machine’s arms, two of the syringes falling to the ground. It sagged to one side, beeping urgently as it struggled to right itself. 

I smirked. Serves it right for messing with the future Mrs Van Hero! “Come on—” It’s body was blocking me from taking out the other two arms.

“Feebs!” Oleander yelled.

I turned toward him and caught a flash of silver in my peripheral vision. I threw myself down on the sand. Air whooshed as something narrowly missed my head. The whirr that kicked in a minute later indicated that the chain-saw machine had entered the fray. I rolled over, and, seeing its metal body above me—panicked. I let go with everything I had. 

There was a high pitched whine, followed by beeping that grew increasingly more urgent. Thick, black smoke poured from its body. The metal shimmered, glowing red as it overheated. It began to spark.

“That’s enough!” Van yelled. “It’s gonna blow!”

I couldn’t move, not even to blink. I was frozen, the light pouring out of me. I couldn’t stop it. I could only watch as the the metal body of the machine began to warp—

Cold fingers wrapped around my ankles where they rested on the sand. The next minute I was enveloped in darkness as intense as the light had been. My light sliced through it, illuminating only more darkness, extending outwards, forever, never ending—

My throat hitched.

“It’s okay.” Oleander pulled me into a hug from behind. “I’ve got you.”

I shut my eyes, breathing out. “Van. He’s alone out there.”

“Not for long.” Oleander sounded grim.

I felt the sand beneath my feet and sank onto the shore. The heat of the sun was warm on my cheeks. I drew a deep breath before I opened my eyes. 

The beach was covered in smoke. The machine I’d been fighting at was collapsed onto the sand, flames licking its body. Looking at it gave me a sick feeling. If Oleander hadn’t grabbed me, it would have fallen on top of me. 

“I am so not interested in playing doctors and nurses with you.” Van grappled with the remaining machine. He looked pale, and there was a beaded line of sweat across his forehead, but he held his own against the machine. 

Or maybe not.The machine whirred angrily, two metal clasps shooting out from its sides, and locking around Van. As he turned his attention to freeing himself, he let go of one of the syringe arms. The machine raised it, preparing to strike.

“Phoebe!” Oleander gripped my arm.

“I know!” I was trying but the light wasn’t coming. “I’m empty—it’s not working!”

“Crap crap crap.” Oleander’s fingers dug painfully tightly into my arm. “If we don’t do something—”

I scanned the beach. My eye fell on a coconut husk, resting on the sand. “Follow me!” I grabbed the coconut, throwing it at the machine.  
It crashed against the syringe, and the machine paused, beeping as it recalibrated. Before it could finish, another coconut hit it, then another.

“It’s working!” Oleander and I pelted the machine with anything that came to hand—coconuts, rocks, branches. It screeched angrily, its camera twisting round to focus on us. I heard the accelerated beeping that preceded an attack and stepped back. “Olly—”

A boulder crashed down from above, flattening the machine. It chirped once, almost plaintively, its remaining arm twitching as it struggled to escape the immense rock pinning it to the shore. 

A booted foot stomped down on the syringe, shattering it. The machine went still. 

I swallowed, following the boot up a familiar yellow and green costume to the man wearing it—a man whose blond hair and devil-may-care smile was world renowned. Atlas. The world’s greatest hero—and dad’s harshest critic—had just saved our lives.

*****

“I am not impressed.” Atlas spoke in capital letters. There was a weight behind every word—as if he was setting them down for posterity. If my legs hadn’t spontaenously turned to jelly, I would have taken a step back. “What is the meaning of this?” He removed his piercing gaze from myself and Oleander, turning to face his son.

Van kicked the machine’s metal tendrils away from his legs. “Not ‘Are you fine, Van?’ Or maybe, ‘Did you get hurt?’ No, straight into ‘What is the meaning?’—as if I go around getting attacked by random death machines for fun!”

I blinked. Was that how you spoke to the world’s greatest superhero?

Atlas folded his arms. “No excuses. I want to know why my son is endangering civilians, and I want to know now.” 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Van shuffled his feet in the sand. He looked like Oleander when faced with a crowd of two. “I was following my usual morning training route when I noticed three unidentified objects tailing me. I took evasive maneuvers with initial success—until I realised that unable to locate me, the machines had fixed on—” Van looked from Oleander to me and swallowed, “—two civilian teenagers instead. I was forced to intervene to prevent them from being harmed.”

What did he mean—civilians?

“You should have disabled the machines before they were close enough to threaten the civilians.” Atlas knelt to examine the machine’s wreckage. “And you should have never allowed yourself to become captured in its coils. You put not only yourself at risk, but everyone around you.”

“He was helping us!” I put my hands on my hips. “And he was doing a pretty good job of it!”

Atlas looked up, his blue eyes flashing. He caught himself before he could speak.

“Thanks, Phoebe, but dad’s right.” Van scratched the back of his neck. His smile was rueful. “If I’m going to take on the legacy of the world’s greatest superhero, then ‘pretty good’ isn’t enough. I have to be perfect.”

I lowered my arms. “I think you’re perfect already.”

Van stared at me. 

There was a thud to my left. Oleander smacked himself in the face.

Van’s mouth twitched. 

Atlas chuckled as he stood. “It seems that your actions have won you one fan.” He took my hand. “Phoebe, is it? A pleasure to meet you.”  
It was all I could do to keep my internal glow internal. The world’s greatest hero was holding my hand! I knew I should reply, but when Atlas looked into my eyes, my brain shut down. Sensation overload probably. His eyes weren’t blue or as pretty as Van’s, but when they fixed on me, every muscle in my body quivered. Yikes. Heat gathered in my cheeks, and my tongue felt strangely too big for my dry mouth.

Oleander came to my rescue. “She’s delighted to meet you,” he said, pulling me back. “But you’re obviously a busy man. We won’t keep you.”

Atlas turned his head, fixing Oleander with his gorgeous eyes. “And you are?”

He swallowed, going completely still. “Um. Oleander.” He mumbled his name—even Olly thought Atlas was attractive then? 

Atlas gazed at him, my brother’s fidgeting becoming more anguished. “Oleander.” He rolled each syllable around on his tongue. “An unusual name. I’m sure I’ve heard it before…”

“It’s a type of plant,” I told him. “Poisonous to humans.”

Atlas turned his head to me, and I felt a fresh wave of jelly sweep over me. “You—”

“What do you make of these machines?” Van poked the shattered pieces of the drone with his boot. “I haven’t seen anything like them before. There’s no serial number, no logo…”

“A sure sign they were custom made for nefarious purposes.” Atlas stretched his arms around the rock. He grunted, hefting the boulder. Another moment, and he’d thrown it down the beach. It landed with a crash that made the earth shudder. 

I gasped. 

Atlas smirked as he turned back to the machine. “Let’s take a look at this.”

Oleander caught my eye. He jerked his head in the direction of the forest.

I frowned, shaking my head. We couldn’t leave now! Dad would want to know about these drones. I stepped forward, peering over Atlas’ shoulder.

Atlas examined the syringe. “The others were armed with different weapons?”

Van nodded. “We can’t be sure they were targeting me.”

Atlas scoffed. “They were on your training route. Obviously meant for you.”

“Then why would they attack two—” Van ducked a glance toward me and Oleander, swallowing. “Civilians?” His eyes locked on us. Begging us not to contradict him?

I smiled. Being referred to as a civilian grated, but if it would keep Van out of trouble, I could handle it.

“Who knows? There are many things that could have gone wrong. Maybe the machine’s maker assumed you would be the only person out here. Maybe the machine was triggered by their movements. The only thing that’s clear is the person behind these killing machines.” Atlas’s mouth tightened. “Nemo.”

I started. “What?”

“The ocean location, the advanced nature of the machines, their choice of target—it all adds up!” Atlas ground his fist into his hand. “Worst of all, there’s nothing we can do about it! As long as that submarine of his is in international waters, he’s untouchable—”

“No way dad did this!” I protested.

Atlas’ head snapped up. There was no softness in his eyes now, just cold steel. “Dad?”

“The machines attacked them too,” Van cut in quickly. “They’ve got nothing to do with this.”

“And neither has our dad!” Oleander tried to tug me away, but I dug my heels into the sand. “He’s too busy solving the ocean’s plastic pollution problem. Tell him, Oleander! You’ve never seen anything remotely like this in dad’s laboratory, right?”

Oleander reluctantly looked towards the metal fragments. “This doesn’t even look like the materials Dad works with. See how shiny the metal is? A rudimentary comparison of the metal fragments—”

Atlas stepped towards him, his fists clenched. “What do you know of this?”

“He doesn’t know anything!” Van put a hand on his father’s arm. “Honestly, Dad—” He froze.

We all registered the mechanical whirring at the same time, looking up to see the first machine, the one that had destroyed the forest, hovering lopsidedly over Atlas and Van. One by one, the row of buttons on its front lit up, the humming building. In a moment, it would ignite—

The light spilled out of me sharp and instantaneous. It sliced through the machine cleanly. The whir of its propellor slowed, and the machine folded to the ground, landing in two seperate pieces. Smoke spilled out like oil.

I blinked, reflections of the machine dancing in my vision.

“I thought you said you were empty.” Oleander stepped closer to me.

“I thought I was.” What, like having powers comes with a manual? 

“You’ve got powers.” There was a strange note in Atlas’ voice.

Atlas! I whipped my head up, glaring at him. “Yes—so you can stop lecturing Van about endangering civilians. We’re not.”

“So I see.” Atlas shot Van a look. 

He shrugged. Not a helpless shrug like Oleader’s, but a kind of resigned one. Like he knew he wasn’t going to be hearing the end of this for a long time.

“It’s not his fault!” I said. “The machines attacked us. If Van hadn’t helped us, we’d have been in a lot of trouble.”

“And you’re Nemo’s children. The twins.” Atlas watched me intently. “I didn’t realise how grown up you were.”

I shot Oleander a triumphant look. “See?”

He frowned.

“See?” Atlas asked.

I beamed at him. “Oleander thought you knowing who we were might make things awkward—but I just know that if you talked to dad, you’d realise that you’re mistaken, and you can go back to being friends!”

Van frantically waved his hands. Another machine behind me? I turned but there was nothing there. I shot him a puzzled look, but Van was watching his father.

Atlas’s expression was blank. 

Oleander’s hand tightened on my wrist. “You’re um. We’ll just go.” He pulled me into the trees. 

It took a few moments for my legs to obey me. I dug my heels into the ground. “We can’t leave now! We’re about to repair dad’s relationship with his best friend!”

“A best friend who had no problems getting him charged with crimes against humanity!” Oleander heaved me after him. “Face it, Feebs—that ship sailed decades ago. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t grind us into a pulp!”

“Now you’re being ridiculous! He’s a hero—you know, a good guy? The world’s greatest good guy in fact!”

A throat cleared in front of me. “That’s right. And you’ll understand that as the world’s greatest superhero, I can’t let the two of you go.” Atlas hovered above our heads, Van, his expression worried, behind him.

Oleander’s fingers tightened around my wrist. I could feel the chill of the shadows at my feet. It felt like defeat.

“You and dad—you were best friends for years! Doesn’t that mean something?” I protested.

Atlas landed on the ground in front of me. “We’ve been enemies almost as long as we’ve been friends now…but you’re right. It still means something to me. I would like to think it means something to your father, too.”

I brightened. “Meet him—you’ll see! He—”

Atlas shook his head. “I’m afraid that there’s too much between us for that to be possible—now. But if I could extend the olive branch to his children—perhaps by offering them a demonstration of my powers of flight—you could vouch for my goodwill.”

“What—you want to take us flying?” Oleander’s nails dug into my skin.

Flying! Being held by Van as we soared above the clouds… It was the stuff of daydreams. Plus knowing more about superhero aerodynamics might help me figure out a solution to my light speed problem.

“We really should ask dad’s permission first—”

I stepped on Oleander’s foot. “We’d love to.”

Atlas grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He held out his hand to me. 

I was a little disappointed not to be flying with Van, but as Atlas scooped me up, cradling me against his chest, I changed my mind. He’d obviously rescued many people like this. I felt comfortable and secure—and a lot less embarrassed than Van or Oleander.

I didn’t see how they solved the flying dilemma. Atlas took off, straight up. The wind tugged my hair, and I laughed as we punched straight through a cloud, surrounded entirely by mist.

“Hold on,” Atlas called, spiralling round and round, better than any roller coaster. I was glad for the thickness of my jacket. The higher we climbed, the colder the air became. 

Atlas kept climbing higher and higher. The island shrunk beneath us, the blue expanse of the waves spreading out and out, with the rest of the island chain dotted like jewels. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Go high enough, and you can’t see roads, or people, or the mess they’ve made.”

I leaned my head against Atlas’s shoulder. I wanted to tell him how strange it was to be so high above the sea instead of beneath it, but I was having trouble forming the words. “Dizzy.”

“We’ll stay and rest here until you’re feeling better.” Atlas gave me a comforting squeeze.

“No.” I shut my eyes. I felt the urgent need to nap. “Less oxygen at higher air levels. I’m going to—”

I passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

My cheek rested on cold steel. Had I fallen out of my bunk? My thoughts were sluggish. I stirred cautiously, in case I’d hurt myself. Nothing immediately protested and I relaxed. The floor was as good a place to be as any.

Spiderweb prickled lightly across my thoughts. “I sense no ulterior motives in her surface thoughts.” The voice was low, barely more than a murmur. It was hard to place, but I decided the speaker was a woman. “She believes herself to be exactly what she appears. A teenage girl who cares deeply about her father. The encounter with Van was chance.”

Van? I tasted smoke in my mouth. The memory of the beach came rushing back. What had happened? Had the machines returned?

“Keep looking. I know she’s hiding something.” I heard metal echoes, a foot drumming against the steel floor. Atlas.

“I cannot. Not without the risk of permanently damanging her mind.”

“Maybe…they’re telling the truth?” This voice was hesitant. Van. I opened my eyes. He scratched his arm as he leaned against some sort of dashboard. 

“Quiet, Van. We’re working.” Atlas’s boots blocked my vision. I was lying on the floor, but this wasn’t our bedroom. “Try the boy again. You said his mind was more guarded.”

There was a soft moan beside me. I turned my head, and saw Oleander curled into a ball. He winced, brow tightening as a soft pained gasp escaped him. 

Oh god. Olly! I forced my foggy thoughts aside, mind snapping into overdrive. My brother was hurt. We weren’t on the Nautillus. 

We lay on the floor of what looked like a command centre, gleaming with steel, humming with machinery, and taut with urgency. The air had the same recyled flavour that the Nautillus’ air did, even though the light beaming down from above was natural. On the other side of a row of steel bars, Atlas stood with a woman who wore a long cloak over her pale purple bodysuit. A cowl covered her hair and most of her face. A heavy gold chain with three large stones that looked like pearls completed her costume—Seeress, like Atlas, a member of the Seven.

“His mind is more guarded, but his secrets are all his own,” she said, in a voice that lacked any emotion or inflection. “Like any teenage boy, he is chiefly concerned with what others think of him, in particular, his father’s reaction should he decide to come out—”

“Hey!” I scrambled to my feet, using the bars to haul myself upright. “That’s private!” 

Seeress didn’t blink. Atlas, folded his arms, weighing me coolly. There was no hint of kindness in his face now.

I swallowed, gripping the bars as tightly as I could. “You were reading our minds.”

“It was necessary,” Seeress said. “We are responsible for protecting the lives of millions of people. We had to be assured that you posed no risk.”

“Risk?” I looked back at my brother. Oleander lay still and silent, but his chest rose regularly. Unconscious? “What did you do to us?”

“It’s all right,” Van said quickly. “He’s fine—you’re both fine. At a certain height, oxygen is so scarce that people—”

“Lose consciousness.” I narrowed my eyes at Atlas. “That was deliberate. You offered to take us flying knowing that would happen and then—” I gasped, as the full situation hit me. “You kidnapped us!”

Van winced. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh my god. You totally kidnapped us!” I felt dizzy, spots dancing in my vision. “But you’re supposed to be a good guy!”

There was a hiss as a metal door slid open, and a second man entered, driving what looked like a forklift. He had the remains of one of the droids on it.   
“Found the droid exactly as you said. No sign of the Nautillus—or Nemo—but someone had been there.” He wore an old-fashioned bomber jacket, with patches sewn on the elbows, and a pair of goggles slung around his neck. Something about his dirty blond hair, streaked with grey in patches, reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put a name to him. Evidently not one of the seven.

“We don’t have much time,” Atlas said. “We need to know what he’s planning.” He reached through the cage bars, gripping my jacket by the collar and hauling me onto my tiptoes. “Tell us. What is he up to?”

I grabbed the bars in an effort to steady myself. “You’re supposed to be the world’s greatest hero! You can’t kidnap us. We’re kids!”

Atlas snarled. “You and your brother are temporarily detained.”

“You’re hurting her.”

Atlas gave no sign of having heard Van speak. “Tell me what Nemo’s objective is. My son? Me?” He shook me, then just as violently let go.

I stumbled backwards, catching my foot on Oleander’s leg, and landing flat on my bottom. My head spun. “You—” I blinked rapidly. I would not let him see me cry. “You’re not a hero. You’re a bully. And you—the rest of you.” I struggled to my feet. “You’re supposed to be heroes too! Don’t you care that he’s doing this?”

The guy on the forklift snorted as he clumsily swung himself off the edge of the seat. “The boss here is the world’s greatest for a reason. Everything he does is for the world’s benefit. Who’s going to stop him? Not me.”

Buddy, I realised dully. Atlas’s sidekick, a man who’d known him almost as long as dad. No way was he going to help us. This was all my fault—how could I have been so stupid? Now Oleander and I were the prisoners of dad’s enemies—

“Interesting. Her feelings of betrayal are sincere. Nemo did not attempt to influence their minds against us.” Seeress spoke as if she was merely remarking on the weather.

“Do you mind?” I dragged the back of my hand across my eyes.

Atlas stomped across the room to glare at a computer monitor, everyone looking at him. “Does it matter? It’s not them we want.” He slammed his fist against the metal counter. “Where is Nemo?” The metal barely even thrummed. Reinforced steel. Were Atlas’s tantrums a regular occurrence?

There was a burst of static, followed by a high pitched whine that tuned to a voice. “If you wanted to talk, Atlas, my channel is always open.” 

The voice might have been tinny, but I recognised it at once. “Dad!”

Atlas exchanged a glance with his companions. Buddy scurried over to the computer monitor as Seeress raised her hands to her head. 

Oh god. I gulped. What had I done? “Dad, they’re trying to trace your location!”

“I anticipated that, Phoebe.” The computer screens flickered, Buddy starting back in alarm. The picture skipped, become a thin line that eventually stretched out to reveal dad, sitting in the Nautillus bridge. “Oleander?”

I looked down. He hadn’t moved. “Unconscious, but okay, I think. Dad, this is all my fault. I thought—he was being nice! But it was all a trick!”

Dad’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “I wasn’t aware that the Seven had branched out into kidnapping. Aren’t there enough crimes in the world without so-called heroes adding to them?”

Atlas stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the main computer screen—but not all the screens. Dad’s image filled every screen in the room. “You’ve got no room to talk about crimes. You were found guilty—”

“In absentia.” Dad’s frown deepened. “I never did learn exactly what I was accused of.”

“Time you found out.” Atlas walked up to the main screen. He jabbed his finger at the screen. “If you want your children to be freed, present yourself at Rangitoto.”

“The volcano prison?” Dad’s eyes glittered.

“No weapons. No back-up. Just you and me.”

“No!” I tugged vainly at the bars. “It’s a trap—he’s lying!”

“I am well aware that Atlas is planning something—no doubt my incarceration within Rangitoto itself.” He weighed Atlas, then his eyes fell on myself and Oleander, and something in his expression shifted. “How do I know you’ll let them go unharmed?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Atlas didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Seeress?”

She shut her eyes, appearing to concentrate. “Atlas’s interest in your children extends only so far as ensuring you do not escape the punishment for your crimes. He does not intend to keep them here a second longer than absolutely necessary.”

Dad nodded slowly. “Very well.”

This couldn’t be happening. “No! Think of everyone on the sub—your work—”

He shook his head, the screen momentarily blurring. “My work can continue without me. My children come first.”

“You can’t—”

He spoke over top of me, looking directly at Atlas. “I will be there. Nemo, out.”

The image vanished, leaving the command center in complete silence. I slumped against the cage bars, my eyes shut. Dad…

“Used some sort of backdoor to get into our system. In five minutes, I’ll be able to give you his location.” Buddy pulled up a seat, plonking himself down at the main computer screen.

“No need. He’ll be at Rangitoto—and we’ll be there waiting for him.” Atlas looked to Seeress. “Summon the others. Tell them to meet me at the volcano as soon as they can.”

The others? He could only mean the remaining five members of the Seven. I gulped. “Seven against one? That’s not fair!” I ground my hands into fists. “Not only are you a bully, but you’re a coward too—he said he’d be unarmed!”

Atlas spun around. He slammed his hand against the cage bars, jarring me. “Listen, you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the world—and you’ve got no idea what it takes. Keep your self righteous bullshit to yourself. I’ve got work to do.” He stalked toward the door. “Buddy, Van. You too.”

A smirk crossed Buddy’s face. “Yes, boss.” He jogged after Atlas.

Van hesitated. He shot me a look. “Phoebe—”

Seeress placed her hand on his shoulder. “It is unwise to keep your father waiting.”

Van’s shoulders sagged. He followed Buddy out the door, Seeress behind him. The doors hissed as they shut. 

I slumped to the floor, the tears I’d been holding back coming fast and furious. They were going to ruin everything…

Oleander stirred. “Feebs?”

I grabbed his arm, helping him sit up. “Olly!” The tears welled up again. “How do you feel?”

“Weird. Spacey. Like the time I broke my arm and Nalini had to put me under…” He looked around, eyes widening. “This isn’t the sub! Where are we?” And then his eyes fixed on my face. He swallowed. “What’s wrong?”

I shuddered. “Everything.”

*****

The screens flickered on. “Phoebe, Oleander, can you hear me? Respond quickly, we don’t have much time.”

“Dad!” I hauled myself to my feet, using the bars. “The Seven are coming for you!”

He smiled grimly. The video feed was poor quality. I couldn’t tell where he was but I knew it wasn’t the Nautillus. “I know. I’m flattered that Atlas thinks the precaution necessary, but it does mean that we only have one shot at this.”

Oleander’s shoulder brushed mine as he stood. “One shot at what?”

Dad’s frown eased. Relieved to see Oleander on his feet, no doubt. “None the worse for your ordeal?” We shook our heads. “Good. Oleander, remove yourself and your sister from the cage. I’ve temporarily taken—”

I didn’t catch his next words—between is dark, cold, and one hell of a silencer.

“—Seven’s command system, but what I require needs a physical presence.”

I swallowed, shutting my eyes. If I concentrated on his voice, I could pretend this was just another day on the Nautillus, Dad’s voice being emitted from the internal speakers as he gave the daily status updates. “What do you want us to do?” My voice barely wobbled.

“I’ve been monitoring the Seven’s communications. They’re aware of Phoebe’s laser powers, but so far have no knowledge of Oleander’s command of shadows. I propose we keep it that way. Phoebe, start melting the bars of your cage. We’ll make it look as though you escaped that way.”

I did as I was told, summoning a beam of light to cut through the metal bars. “What about the security cameras? Won’t they see us?”

“I’ve erased their data—just as I’ll erase this once we’re done. But be prepared to leave at any minute. It’s more important that you get out than hiding Oleander’s power.”

I blinked. “But—” Oleander had pulled Van into a shadow to escape the machines on the beach! He knew—and hadn’t told his father? Despite the awfulness of the situation, I felt better knowing we had one friend at least.

“Concentrate, Phoebe. Now, Oleander. I’ve just started printing a file. When this is complete, I need you to deliver it to the following address.”

Oleander peered at the screen. “How will I find it?”

“You’ll have to make short trips from shadow to shadow until you reach the city. Once you’re there, you can acquire a map. Don’t use your cellphones. There’s a possibility they will be traced.”

The matter of factness in his voice made me feel better. I renewed my focus on the bars. They were tough, but as I turned up my heat a notch, they began to glow orange. It would just take time.

There was a familiar mechanical noise. The Seven might be imbued with strength, power and resources beyond those of mere mortals, but their printer was the same as anyone else’s. As the familiar printing sounds made their way through the command center, Oleander located the machine among the high tech controls. “Got it.” He picked up what pages had already been printed. “What is this?”

“The Seven’s record on me,” Dad replied. “Whatever I’m accused of is in there.”

I frowned, but focused on melting the bars I couldn’t look around. “And the person we’re delivering this to?”

“Ms. King is one of the best lawyers of her generation.”

“A lawyer?” I gulped. “You don’t mean—”

“You’re letting them catch you?” Oleander shared my dismay.

“My reputation is a serious hindrance to my work. I cannot make progress when the scientific community is continually finding sinister implications in my every action. It is time these accusations were put to rest so that real change can be made.”

“But Dad! The Seven are bullies!” Heat pulsed behind my eyes. The bars warped. I grabbed them with both hands, twisting them to make a hole that Oleander and I could have squeezed through. “You’ll never get a fair trial!”

“And that’s why I need the two of you.” He nodded approvingly at my work. “Deliver these papers to Ms. King. She’s gone head-to-head with Atlas before. I know I can rely on her—and the two of you.”

Oleander and I shared a helpless glance. I did not feel at all reliable.

“If these files are so important, wouldn’t it be better to e-mail them?”

“E-mail can be traced. You can’t. Have you memorized her address?”

Oleander nodded, his shoulders sagging. I watched, a lump rising in my throat. My fault…

“I’ve left Nalini in command of the Nautillus. She’s taking it to deep waters. They’ll lie low until the inevitable furor surrounding my capture dies down. Until then, you two will—” 

A burst of static interrupted his transmission. For a moment, we glimpsed a blank mask, face-shaped with two empty hollows where the eyes and ears were. Then it was gone, and instead we saw our father, frowning as he adjusted his instruments. 

“What was that? You saw it too, right?” Oleander looked at me. “A man?”

“Looked like a mask to me.”

“The Mind.” Dad’s voice was grim. “No doubt trying to track me through the air waves. We don’t have much time.”

I gulped. The Mind was the Seven’s technological expert. If he was looking for Dad, there was no way he could elude him. “Dad! I—” I swiped my hand across my eyes. “I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t believed Atlas, none of this would be happening.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Phoebe. Atlas is an expert in getting what he wants. I have raised you to believe the best of people. I’m afraid that you have a lot of disappointment ahead of you.”

There was a crash somewhere behind him. The room he was in shook, Dad grabbing hold of the control desk to keep his balance. “They’ve found me.”

“Dad!” This wasn’t fair—or right! “Please, Dad escape!”

Oleander leaned forward. “Your research might go on without you, but it won’t be the same—nothing will!”

“We need you!” I swatted my tears away. “I need you. Does it matter what the world thinks if they’re wrong?”

“Oleander. Phoebe.” The room shuddered again, but Dad held himself still. Static ate his next words.“—prouder of the two of you. I know—” Crackle. Bang. “—ready. World may not be—but you will face this with intelligence and tenacity, just as I have taught you.” He reached forward, and the screen cut out.

“Dad!” 

The screen was blank. The room silent.

My gut felt like I’d been punched, my insides whirling. Dad…

With one last screech, the printer fell silent. Oleander picked up the paper, absently banging it on the nearest surface to make it even. “What, um. What do we do now?” His voice wobbled.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. Intelligence and tenacity. I let my breath out slowly, reminding myself that I was a Savea. And Saveas didn’t quit just because things were difficult. “Exactly what he said.”

*****

“Sorry, kids. Unless someone inside buzzes you in, you’re staying here. That’s the rules.” The security guard had been concerned when we first arrived, but he was rapidly running out of patience. His eyes kept straying back to the rugy game playing on his phone. 

“You don’t understand. This is a matter of life or death—our father’s life or death.” I fixed him with my most winning smile. “Please?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Look. It’d be more than my job’s worth to let you in. I called the apartment and there was no answer. Just come back later. Ms. King might be in—”

“What’s going on?”

Oleander grabbed my arm as he started. “Ms King?”

She was a short woman, wearing a slate-grey business suit with heels. Her black hair was sleek and glossy, with brown highlights—supermodel hair. Her mouth was wide and generous, but it was pursed as she weighed us, and her brown eyes frowned. “I don’t know you.”

Something about her was familiar. “Our father sent us. He’s in trouble—big trouble—and he needs your help!” She continued to study us, her frown deepening. I shoved Oleander forward. “Show her the files.”

Oleander held them out. She took them, tucking her briefcase under an arm as she scanned them. She gave us a second, sharp look. “Your father?”  
I nodded, scarcely daring to breathe. Please—

Her jaw tightened. “Let’s take this upstairs.”


End file.
